What If Chinua Achebe Was the Principal of a Nigerian Secondary School?

The Arrival of Principal Achebe

Imagine a secondary school where the principal speaks in proverbs and every conversation feels like a chapter from Things Fall Apart. That’s exactly what happened when literary icon Chinua Achebe took the helm of St. Wisdom Secondary School.

Achebe wasn’t your regular principal. No cane-wielding or shouting matches in his office—just calm, calculated words that made you rethink all your life decisions. His opening speech to the students was both inspiring and terrifying:

“Children,” he began, adjusting his glasses, “in this school, you will learn not just to pass exams but to understand that if you do not hunt for your supper, you will go to bed hungry.”

The JSS1 students clapped enthusiastically. The SS3 boys whispered, “E don cast. Assembly go choke this term.”

The Jollof Rice Civil War

Achebe’s first challenge came in the staff room. A dispute over who made the superior jollof rice—Mrs. Salako or Mr. Okon—had escalated to the point of near fistfights.

Achebe walked in during one of their heated arguments. Without raising his voice, he said, “When two cooks fight over the pot, the soup burns.”

Both teachers paused, unsure if they’d just been insulted. Achebe, ever the diplomat, proposed a “Great Jollof-Off,” where the school prefects judged both dishes.

The verdict? A draw, though one prefect whispered, “Mr. Okon’s rice dey taste like cement.” Achebe used the moment to deliver a decree: no food wars during school hours.

The Strike of the Senior Boys

SS3 students had a tradition of skipping morning assembly—a long-standing act of rebellion that no previous principal could tame. One Monday morning, Achebe noticed their absence and called a meeting with their leader, Tunde “General” Adebayo.

Achebe leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “Young man,” he began, “he who climbs a tree to pluck fruit should not complain about scratches.”

General scratched his head. “Sir, what are you trying to say?”

Achebe’s response? “If you want freedom, earn it. Lead by example at assembly for one week. If your classmates don’t follow, you’ll get your freedom.”

To everyone’s surprise, Tunde complied, and the seniors grudgingly followed. By Friday, they were so tired of clapping and singing hymns that they begged to return to their old ways.

The PTA Showdown

The PTA meeting was a war zone. Parents split into factions: one camp demanding lower fees, the other insisting on better facilities. Voices were raised, accusations flew, and a few chairs were almost thrown.

Achebe stepped in with his signature calm. “Let us remember,” he said, “that the man who does not plant yams should not expect to eat pounded yam.”

The room fell silent. After much deliberation, he proposed a compromise: fees would increase, but installment payments would be allowed. Parents also agreed to donate books and materials. Achebe left the room with a satisfied smile as parents muttered, “This man sabi talk o.”

The WAEC Miracle

As WAEC exams loomed, whispers of “expo” (exam malpractice) filled the school halls. Achebe caught wind of it and called an emergency assembly.

“Children,” he said, his tone firm, “shortcuts often lead to dead ends. If you want to pass these exams, it must be through hard work, not foolishness.”

To help, Achebe launched an after-school study program called the “Lion’s Club,” where teachers offered extra classes. Achebe himself taught literature, weaving proverbs into lessons so engaging that even the laziest students found themselves captivated.

The result? St. Wisdom Secondary recorded its best WAEC performance in a decade. When asked how they did it, one student replied, “Principal Achebe no gree make we dull. Him proverb alone fit make you read book.”

Act 5: The Legacy of Principal Achebe

By the time Achebe retired, St. Wisdom Secondary School was transformed. Students were disciplined yet curious, teachers were united, and even PTA meetings had become civil.

On his final day, Achebe addressed the school for the last time. His words carried the weight of his wisdom:
“The world is like a masquerade. If you want to understand it, you must watch it from many angles. Go and conquer, my lions.”

The students erupted in cheers as Achebe walked out of the school gates, leaving behind a legacy of wisdom, laughter, and unforgettable proverbs.

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